Lèse majesté
by Vaegtersang
Summary: Coauthored with Ms. Western Ink: "Wed?" "Yes." Her enunciation slowed to a crawl. "The health of this land depends upon my family remaining upon the throne. I cannot remove you. So I must keep power by other means."
1. Chapter I

A tremendous thanks to Ms. Western Ink for lending her narrative brilliance to the story and making so many passages sound so lovely.

- A.-D.

* * *

-Chapter I

It was, really, astonishingly simple. The Goddesses had ordained her family the just rulers of Hyrule. There was no further justification needed, the Royal Family's rule was simply part of the cosmic balance they had planned. It was as natural as the ebb and flow of tides and the changing of the seasons. It needed no more contemplation or defense than the question of why rivers flow downhill.

But the balance had been upended. It had been two years since his accession. She had seen the consequences. Harvests failed. Monsters arose from the earth to stalk the formerly vibrant market squares of Castletown. No corner of the land had escaped pestilence. Her beloved world, her birthright, was rotting before her eyes in the hands of a desert thief. The continued survival of the land rested on her ascension to the throne and the restoration of the family to the throne as the Goddesses had intended.

She had, for those two years, somehow thought that she could reclaim the throne by force. That, through clever disguises and magic, she could hold out until he returned, or even defeat the tyrant on her own and take back what was rightfully hers and restore it to its former glory. So willing, she was, to believe in a _hero_ and all that he embodied. Now, as people withered away, her country wilted more each day, she was sure she'd been lost in a naïve fantasy of storybook proportions. If she could not win her country back on the, evidently baseless, principle that good always trumps evil then she clearly needed to reexamine her methodology.

It was time for more drastic, more pragmatic measures. There could be much said, after all, for time-honored traditions. One of the oldest, of course, was about to make itself infinitely useful to her. Ganondorf, _de facto_ Lord and King of Hyrule, was just a man but she, woeful prisoner that she was, was not _just_ a woman. She was the last blood-member of the Royal family, a direct ruling descendant. Zelda regarded her reflection in the mirror attached to her tiny dressing table, seeing little but desperation.

Question was: could she make that scheming man see the value in wedding her?

Better yet: how did she ask?

Well, perhaps the second wasn't really much of a question. She had been here, captive, for weeks now and never once seen another soul enter or exit her room. Food appeared on trays without much fanfare. It only stood to reason...

"Gannondorf," she addressed the empty room, her speech slightly louder than normal.

She paused, was she sure she wanted to do this? Of course she didn't want to; the question was if she saw any other solution. She didn't.

"...I should like an audience with you. I have a proposition which could be to our mutual benefit." The entrepreneurial tone did not strike her as odd, and she imagined that her father had several years ago used similar phrasing when arranging her marriage to some future foreign noble. Of course, he was (and probably the Noble, too) dead now and the promise no longer valid.

It could not have been more than five minutes before her door swung open and he entered. Light gleamed off the armor plating across his shoulders. The door, a heavy wood, swung closed under its own weight and clicked shut with a bang.

He regarded her a long moment and she turned fully to face him. "Is the _Princess_ calling?"

Her response was immediate, "We should m-" Marry. And now the _meaning_ of just what she was proposing came to her. They would spend the next few weeks seeing each other daily, planning the details of the ceremony. She would, in shame of course, announce the engagement to her people who would react...the goddesses only knew.

Then there would be the ceremony, hopefully short. After that she would have to endure him most the day, every day, for the rest of her life. They would share a home. Receive audiences together. And...no, she wouldn't think about that. This was necessary. "We should establish a...tie by which we...rule jointly."

"Do you wish to imply, _Princess_, that I am in need of your assistance?"

"No." Her reply came out too quickly for a Head of State. "No," this time the fright was not as apparent, "I am proposing that we wed."

His grin, a malicious slash across his lips preceded his reply. "Wed?"

"Yes." Her enunciation slowed to a crawl. "Be married. You would be King. I would be Queen. The health of this land depends upon my family remaining upon the throne. I cannot remove you. So I must keep power by other means."

"What do you offer, Princess, to assure me this is no scheme on your part to play dangerous games with that boy in green?"

He was truly shameless; she thought and wondered why she was surprised. He knew, just as well as she, that there had been no word of "that boy in green" for years, and using him as justification to demand even larger concessions was underhanded._  
_  
"I offer my word; if we are to marry you already have everything else." Nervous hands picked at the fabric of her gloves.

Ganondorf's laughter echoed off the walls of her chambers. When he took note of her again, his eyes were alight. "Plan your wedding, girl."

* * *

And so she planned. Announcement of the engagement was first.

It was time-honored tradition among the members of the Royal Family to send out the royal couriers upon confirmation of the princess' future marriage. Two honored guards were chosen for the duty. It had always been a favorite sight of hers, to see the horses adorned in equine finery. They would travel out, East and West, stopping at each village and town along the way delivering the news. The thought never occurred to her that, with Castletown reduced to rubble and only a handful of living souls left, there were neither riders nor a way to continue the tradition, and so it was only upon requesting the use of two of Ganondorf's messengers that she learned she would need to make other plans for the announcement.

Gannondorf was the first to propose she simply make the announcement herself. Neither the Zora nor the Gorons had ever attended the weddings of the Hylian Royal Family before, and though there was perhaps a chance they would have received invitations in hopes of promoting further cooperation, her father was not involved in this wedding. The Gerudo would have already heard the news from their King, and so really the only place she needed to bring the news was Kakariko Village.

And then it struck her. If she was to ride to Kakariko and announce the engagement herself, it would be the perfect opportunity for escape. She would be accompanied by some guards, of course to prevent it, but Kakariko was a whole town. No doubt there would be enough villagers to dispatch a few stalfos and free her. Still in the Evil King's presence, she began to draft her escape. She had the opportunity to restore Hylian rule without wedding him after all!

She would escape, this required barely any planning, he had made it so easy, and then: well, that was not very clear. What did she stand to gain? Not marrying him, of course and, really, this was quite preferable as it meant she needn't stain or dilute the nobility of the Royal Family's line by wedding some Gerudo. But it was not assured that she would regain the throne, so really the question was whether the added benefit of keeping Gannondorf away from the throne made a less-certain plan better. It was too late in the day to begin riding out now, but she would need to make up her mind soon.

There were no true windows in her room, only small openings near the ceiling that gave a few lumens and allowed her to hear the outside. The room remained nearly black when she awoke; the only indication that it was morning was the crowing of roosters outside. When dawn finally drifted down to her, not only had she reached a decision, she was resolute in it. She _would_ escape. The plan was quite simple, and had not changed much from the night before: Zelda would pack everything she could fit in a small, inconspicuous bag and ride for the Kokiri Forest, where monsters could not enter. From there, well, Sheikah tactics had served well in the past. It was clearly time for Princess Zelda to go on hiatus.

The dim light filtering down from above was enough to locate her matches and light her oil lamp. From there, she packed quickly. Her closet fixings weren't even a fraction of her former wardrobe, so she dressed with haste. She needed to be downstairs soon to head out on horseback or the delay would seem suspicious. It would be even more suspicious if she was late for her first ever appearance at breakfast with her new _fiancé. _He had, to her utter surprise, delivered a missive to her last the last evening stating that she was to appear at the table for meals henceforth.

Putting the thought from her mind she grabbed her bag, a tiny non-descript thing that looked like it would hold much less than it actually did. That it was a rather garish shade of pink would have to be ignored. The horrid thing had been a gift one year from someone and she supposed the decent thing to do was remember who had given it to her, but who had time for details?  
The Ocarina was the first to go in, then a bottle filled with water and last, her old Sheikah costume. Food, things she had stored from her meal trays from days in captivity, disappeared inside also. A moment's pause, and then the bag was closed. With trepidation, she approached her heavy wooden door and tried the latch.

It was unlocked.

It swung open revealing the curved stone tower stairs and the red carpet that ran so smoothly down them. Torches glowed on the inner walls lighting her way. Steeling herself, she pushed the bag up her shoulder, smoothed her skirt, and started down.

At the base of the stairs, light gleamed off the shining armor plates of two iron knuckles. They were perfectly still as she stopped on the second stair from the bottom and watched. There wasn't so much as a twitch, no glowing eyes peering down at her from behind steel plates, no tinkling of hidden chain mail, nothing. Tentatively, she stepped down and then darted between the suits half fearing they would raise their axes and take off her arms.

They didn't move.

Peering back and gave them a quick once over and started off for the dining room. Her relief was short lived. Turning into the next hall she found herself stepping into a patrol. One stalfos was moving away from her and another was headed toward. If she were to divert to another hall it was likely she'd run into even more unpleasant things.

The deep set red glow that was the eyes of the skeleton guard didn't so much as flicker when she appeared in the doorway. Careful measured steps continued on, click, clicking against the stone as they moved. When the one closest to her was within feet, she held her breath, only to watch it turn, sword and shield in hand, and continue on its circuit up the hall.

With no other options, she stepped in after it. There were a few feet between her and the monster and she watched it carefully as she followed behind it, not sure what she'd do if it turned and swung that giant sword at her. When it came to passing the stalfos patrolling in the opposite direction she found herself slowing, preparing to duck if it did swing the sword, but it walked past. The bony menace didn't even turn its head.

Halfway to the end, she took the open archway that led directly to the dining room.

He had kept the table from when her father reigned. It was ash and three panels in length, with very shallow carvings covering its surface and then filled over in silver. The carvings depicted, in approximately chronological order, major events in the history of Hyrule and in his own reign. The last third of the table, nearest her had been left blank for events in his reign yet (and not) to come. Her future husband sat at the opposite end of the room and she tried not to look at him as she took the seat nearest the archway.

A glance intended to be quick ended up a study. Her _intended_ was opposite of her at the table, both elbows propped up; his fingers laced together, a look of utter boredom on his face. Within moments of her sitting, servants appeared with covered plates. Her _Lord_ was served first.

Zelda looked away from him to focus on the staff, recognizing several pale but familiar faces. Castletown was in ruins but members of her staff were still _alive_? Were they all alive or just some of them? Why, for the matter, had they been spared? Was it simple practicality or for some other reason?

The servantry, familiar or not, didn't raise their eyes from the floor as they milled around the table delivering items, plates, cups pitchers, napkins and utensils. As the last of the items found its rightful place, including an odd spray of flowers for a centerpiece, admittedly small, the harried humans scurried away like mice.

The Gerudo King eyed her a long moment before remarking. "Afraid I'm going to bite you?"

Her disdain nearly overtook her royal etiquette and '_It wouldn't be below you'_ was on her tongue and awaiting release as soon as she heard the suggestion. She fought back her revulsion and made a weak excuse, something about needing to sit in this particular chair because of her back.

He uncovered his tray with a smirk. The food smelled delicious and she wondered if she hadn't missed dining in this special place. "Your escorts have been chosen."

"Who are they to be?" she asked.

As if her very words summoned them, two stalfos stepped through the archway. Swords gleamed in their skeletal fingers and red plumes dangled from their heads. "You should find them adequate."

"Of course," she said, looking over their swords, polished and reflecting the world in an orange hue. She attributed the peculiar colouration to the metal used. Escape would be difficult, but not impossible. She could, at the very least, outrun them, and probably defeat them. "When are we to depart?"

"At your discretion, _Princess_, the village is a small distance from here. You should have little difficulty."

"Then I shall leave immediately after breakfast." She had not touched her food.

"Does the food offend?" The notion seemed to please him, but it was fleeting. "On your trip, be careful to remember whose staying behind."

There were the clicking steps again, not from the archway but the small doorway behind the Gerudo King that led to the kitchens. A stalfos, so grimy he almost had a green slickness to his bones, was barely visible behind the dowdy figure that found itself thrust in the doorway. A servant girl, her head bent, stumbled forward and fell to her knees.

A terrible look of consternation fell over the princess as she stared at the bent girl on the floor. Surely he didn't mean-? That flat line of her lips and the downturn of her brow accompanied her answer. "I assure you I take such things into very careful account." With that she reached for her fork and lowered her eyes carefully to the tablecloth.


	2. Chapter II

Fixed a few weird glitches that came about when setting this to .html. Think they weird symbols should be gone now.

-A.-D.

* * *

-Chapter II

The tea in his cup had cooled. He noted it as he tipped it into his mouth lamenting the sugar, there was far too much of it. Again, he would need to adjust the menu. Hylians lived in such opulence. Sugar had been a rarity in the desert.

Down the far end of the table the Princess was sipping her tea thoughtfully. Those little hands of hers were in gloves again. She had them folded around the cup, the fingers threaded together. Behind him, he could hear the servant breathing; it was a hitched kind of noise. He waved her away. The sound of the woman being dragged back was interrupted by the Princess' rise from her chair.

Luminous blue eyes rose, not to his face, but to the servant girl whimpering in distress behind him and Ganondorf grinned. There was nothing quite like the feeling of having proper hostages.

"I'm going now."

Her escorts, the stalfos trailed after her in smooth gliding motions. Bony feet click-clicked on the floor and metal scraped as one shield dragged along the stone. The princess didn't turn, she continued on with her head up.

Marriage.

Ganondof curled his lip in displeasure. He had not taken the time to announce his would be "good news" to the witches yet. They had been in and out of the castle, claiming they found the environment stifling. It might've had something to do with the incense. The pungent aromas often carried down the halls and his adoptive mothers would ride about on their brooms with waving paper fans holding their noses in a rather theatric display whilst insulting the smell, each other, and the horrible things they called "chamber pots."

Pushing his chair back he stood and headed for the hall. The girl would be long gone by now provided she had no trouble on horseback. Her guards, slow witted though they might be, were perfectly suited to escorting her.

Marriage.

Repressing a snort he headed for the main hall. He had adopted one of the sitting rooms tearing out the opulent furniture and instead replacing it with sturdy wooden furniture. The large wood stove was a fine place for his heavy iron crucible.

With no pressing business and his relatives out of the castle, it was fine weather for a bit of handiwork. It had been quite some time since he'd practiced his finer skills over a cauldron. The idea had occurred to him several days before.

Turning the handle of the room he stepped inside, the heady incense in the hall no match for the pungent odor of ripe ingredients. A quick glance confirmed the previously green potion had putrefied into a heady purple color.

Hitching his sleeves up his forearms to his elbows he headed for stove. A fire had been lit, the wood stack was ready, and the pot was heated if the soft red glow at the base a reliable indicator.

The project was a simple one and castle life, it seemed, lent itself well to boredom. Koume and Kotake had taught him the process years ago, it was a fine time for practice, if little else. The ingredients for the process were simple.

The sandy water had been in the cauldron before he'd sent the servants to light the pot. It was reasonable to assume they would not alter it considering his warning against doing just that. Turning, he picked up the stalfos bones, six of them, and tossed them in. The tiny tarsal and metatarsal bones littered the shallow metal pan he'd collected them in. Some of them were darkened with char. Tipping the pan over the edge, the tiny bone, and bone fragments fell into the boiling mixture. The broken pieces would have no effect on the end result.

Potion brewing was an exact art, but the Gerudo variation required a bit less exactness. Tinkering with measurements added variation. Peering into the pot he stared down at the clear, boiling water. Steam poured over the edge, rolling toward the floor and curling around his ankles.

Two minutes.

Crossing his arms he glanced down at the table to the right. The chairs had been removed leaving only flag stone floors with the cherry red area rug. A bookshelf pressed back to the wall still contained the original books, some inane adventure series about a dog. If nothing else, the collection could be kindling. Behind him, on the back wall a portrait of the royal family stared away into space, he didn't look back.

There was no need to refresh his memory with her. He'd see the girl all too soon.

Scooping up the nearest bottle of purple potion, he tipped it in. It was deeply colored and odiferous and lumpy. In clumps it fell into the pot, splashing into the watery grave over the fire. The scent rose up and curled around the rim like a cloud.

Peering over the edge, he examined his results.

Watery.

He dumped in another.

In the hall, something slammed against the wall. Metal crashed. He spared a glance at the door to see if it would open, but there was silence. Idiot Stalfos were probably poking the Iron Knuckles in the hall again. One of them had gotten knocked over, probably the suit of armor. He snarled and snatched the dagger off the table. A quick, familiar slash to his forearm and blood welled to the surface. He held it over the fire and the clinging purple cloud circled up, twisted around his arm, and drifted down again.

Thirty-six minutes.

Tossing the knife onto the table, he peered at his arm. It was little more than an ugly red line. He had never been interested in magical theory though it had been explained to him on several occasions.

Turning, he let the mixture to boil. There would be no need to rush back, in thirty-six minutes the newly born wallmasters would crawl out of the pot all on their own and scurry away to the shadowy corners of the room.

* * *

Zelda could not, with any ease, look behind her; her horse was moving too fast to take her eyes away from the trail in front of her, and the unfamiliarity of the Gerudan saddle made keeping balance far too difficult to turn around. She knew, more or less, what was behind her. The defense wall surrounding the remains of castle town receded from view and sank beneath the hills outside Ingo Ranch that she had rode up and then down minutes before. Somewhere a few hills back, two very bewildered horses wondered what had made their riders vanish into thin air. The riders were, along similar lines, wondering where Hyrule field and everything around them had gone. Well, maybe. Now that she thought about it, she wasn't really sure if stalfos could survive being transported to the bottom of a lake.

She couldn't say she cared, either. What was a mystery, though, was how on earth he could have expected the two stalfos to be enough. Surely, he had to have known she wasn't completely helpless. Anyone with a bit of familiarity of who she was and what she had done would have known. Probably all her subjects knew, and certainly everyone working in the castle did. How Ganondorf could overlook something so obvious she hadn't a clue. There was, of course, that poor girl.

It had never occurred to Zelda that the girl might have been meant as the primary means of keeping her under control, or that Ganondorf might have expected her to be unable to leave an innocent to die. And, if it were a choice between her own convenience alone and letting one die, she knew she could not. But that wasn't the only consideration, he also needed to be kept away from power if it was possible to do so without giving up the Royal Family's own hold of it. Under these circumstances, holding a member of the staff as a hostage seemed an ineffective strategy. It was the highest honor in the nation to serve in Hyrule Castle, surely he didn't expect her to put one life, singular, above the health of the whole nation? When he had announced his plans to kill the girl if she did not return she thought he was only trying to establish for himself a consolation prize. If she broke free of her guards she could not choose, as she inevitably would, what was best for the kingdom free of guilt.

But if her only guards along the trip were two stalfos, then perhaps he had some terrible misconceptions about her thought process. If that was the case, it was probably something at least a little to her advantage. How much, though, was unclear, since she'd already escaped and alerted him to his error, but she would keep it in mind.

In the mean time, she would feel guilty.

And she did feel guilty. The entirety of the ride she revisited her thoughts. Reciting, almost perfectly, the points ("You are, inevitably, going to be responsible for some deaths if you are to rule a nation, Zelda") and counterpoints ("But that number is one which any responsible rule must labor to minimize. I am not compelled to escape, and I ought not try if I can find a better way to get back the throne and out of this marriage") and rejoinders to those counterpoints ("This is, without question, your best chance, you can't pass it up hoping for a perfect solution that doesn't harm anyone, and if there is any other way to keep the Family's Reign without marrying Ganondorf you have to take it. Wedding him is the second worst option and you only considered it out of desperation"). By the time she had reached the entrance to the Kokiri forest she had reassured herself again and rode with a lighter conscience.

* * *

Living with creatures not blessed with higher brain function left something to be desired. Iron knuckles, while excellent guards, were not fit for anything except guard duty. Stalfos, especially the lower level ranks, had the most annoying habit of clicking and clacking even when not moving. If it wasn't their weaponry or their armor, it was their bones. The sounds had become so irritating he often sent them out on guard duty. Groups of stalfos out on patrols of Castle Town were becoming part of the routine. The others were usually more beast than man.

Ensconced in the quiet of his private sitting room he sat and brooded, one hand tucked beneath his chin. The log in the fire had begun to crackle when the pounding at the door started.

Not a fist, not even a bony one made such a sound. It had to be something blunt. Maybe one of the idiots had made themselves a club from a table leg, it had happened before. That meant they were breaking up the furniture again.

He scowled and snarled at the interloper.

The doors swung open on silent hinges and a stalfos guard rambled in, his bony spine stooped forward, his vertebrae unnaturally curved. He lumbered, the movements hesitant.

"Princess escaped." The sound was a quiet rasp. Glowing red eyes and shoulders curled inward awaited judgment.

"Escaped?" Ganondorf's voice was a quiet timbre in the oppressive silence of the sitting room. Thoughtfully, he stroked his beard.

The answer was a bobbing nod of the head, bones clinked and armor clanked. The tattered red flag atop his helmet danced with the movement.

The Lord of the Castle sat, in silence, for several long moments while thoughts wandered through. Following the hesitation, he pushed himself up from the chair. Perhaps he hadn't been clear enough with the little Princess? Surely, she'd understood his threat? Did she think him lenient?

"Kill the maid," he growled lowly.

Did she think to escape him or was she waiting to ambush him? A curl of excitement unfurled in his chest at the thought of that tiny woman waiting to battle him. He strode past the stalfos and into the hall, eager.

"Ready my horse!" he exclaimed.

The stillness of the silent halls shattered in a flutter of movement as servants emerged, fleeing to obey his orders.

* * *

The rope bridge shook as her horse walked across it. Zelda had wondered whether, being so old, and designed only to carry the weight of children, it might not break beneath her but the boards held firm as the horse stepped on.

She had never seen anything so green! Well, she had been to the forest once before, but it had been teeming with moblins, and appreciation of nature had to take a much more minor role. Now, though there certainly was not enough time for nature walks, it was simply impossible not to take notice. Once when she was young a tutor had described to her what it was like to be addressed by the Goddesses directly, something that had happened in his life only once, but could be expected to be a fairly normal occurrence once she ascended the throne: their presence so overwhelmed the senses that sight and hearing simply ceased to operate. She had never, until now, understood this, but the pure, immutable greenness of everything around her gave her something of an idea.

The viridians and ferns and myrtles and buckthorns around her crowded out the lines and contours of objects and left only a field of splotchy color and she found she had trouble keeping her balance in the saddle. Zelda pulled on her horse's reins. She needed to dismount until she had regained and was able to keep her bearings. The horse slowed and she removed her feet from the stirrups. Sliding off the horse her feet grazed the edge of the bridge before passing down through the air. She tried to grab at a bit of brown she thought might have been the roping of the bridge but it passed by too quickly and

— she was on the ground. From somewhere above, her horse snorted. The fall, she had expected, would be much more painful. Looking up, however, she saw that the distance from bridge from whence she had fallen was not nearly as far away as she had expected and that, to her good fortune, she could not have been seriously injured. After regaining her breath, she took to her feet. The colors were, thankfully, much less vibrant here. The leaves seemed to stop growing on the trees, leaving plain trunks, once one was below the bridge. She was in a clearing, surrounded on four sides by steep cliff faces. A ladder leaned against the face before her, it was, so far as she could tell, the only way out now that she was down here.

Her feet cried out in protest as she began to ascend the ladder. Her shoes were most certainly not well-suited to climbing and trekking through the woods, nor had her feet recovered from the fall moments before. Falling off the bridge had, of course not been expected, and was certainly a considerable nuisance, but she supposed it could have been much worse. The plan was, after all, to go to the Forest Temple and hide in the Chamber of the Sages until she had some idea of how she might depose her fiancé. The difficult parts would be navigating through the forest and making her way through the Temple and into the chamber. She stood from the top of the cliff and looked back upon the bridge, vacant now that her horse had, apparently, wandered off. She sighed; it had been her favorite.

Turning back, she stood still, fumbling around through her bag until she managed to locate the Ocarina. She knew, from her previous capture in the Temple of Time years ago, that Ganondorf was able, through some kind of magic, to find her no matter where she went. The fact that she had not been apprehended yet, however, likewise told her that the Evil King would not be notified of her whereabouts in real time. How long she had until he was notified, and did come after her, however, she couldn't be sure. It was always possible, too, that she had been spotted by a Guay and her escape relayed back to the castle. There was, in any event, no time to dawdle. She pressed the Ocarina to her lips and played the familiar string of six notes that would transport her. The green lights swam up around her and she was standing on the dais in the middle of the Sacred Forest Meadow.

Oh, there was that, too. How could she have forgotten? She had told the Hero herself: "_Unfortunately, equipped as you currently are, you cannot even enter the temple..._" And she was without the Hookshoot. Still, she needed to get in the temple; there had to be an alternative. She paced beneath the remains of the stone staircase that had once provided access to the temple. There was the tree, of course, it was what had anchored the hookshot when he entered and its branches extended over the top of the stair. Now that she thought about it, was there any reason she couldn't just climb the tree? She knew that Saria had to have been able to enter without the benefits of a hookshot, too. So clearly climbing the tree couldn't be impossible. The question was, would it hold the weight of an adult?

After some thought, she decided it simply would have to hold and proceeded to climb. Her slippers failed to grab hold to the trunk, and her skirts weighed her down. The decorative shoulder armor chaffed her skin and limited her arms' range of motion. She was, in short moments, back down upon the ground. Royal attire was, clearly, unsuited to tree-climbing.

Muttering, Zelda fished her Sheikah costume from the bag. A wave of her hand, and the clothes' places were reversed. She set upon the tree again: A running start and a leap, bandaged hands grabbing on to bark, legs working like pincers about the trunk. Slowly, arms and legs moved infinitesimal distances upward until – at last! – her right hand wrapped around a branch. From here, it was merely a matter of inching along the length of the branch until she stood over the entrance; easy as could be.

And then she entered. She did not linger long in the first room, a courtyard overgrown with vines and grass, heading directly to the door opposite the entrance. The stone of the hallway on the other side of the door was unyielding and steady beneath her feet, a welcome change from the rickety wooden bridge. Above, the cobwebs undulated as young skullata passed across them. Monsters had already returned to the temple, it seemed. She was, she supposed, at least fortunate they were not large enough to pose a danger yet. Another door. Open and shut. Four torches lit in bright and colorful hues illuminated the cavernous great hall's central chamber and balconies. In the center a strange sort of carriage sat on what looked to be a vertical track.

* * *

The forest was crowded and very unlike the wide open space in the desert. Treacherous terrain was hidden beneath lush greenery and his temperamental horse was vocal about its unease. He could sense her, her nimble feet ahead of him. A quick jerk on the reigns turned the horse in a new direction and he hurtled into the serene meadow of the Temple and he eyed it with disinterest. It had not changed much since the last time he'd seen it.

From atop his horse, he eyed the wooden doorway that marked the entrance. How had she gotten inside? A glance at the tree made him snort in amusement as he imagined her hiking up her skirts to climb a tree. Was she planning an ambush? He considered the matter momentarily and then discarded it.

By herself?

Impossible.

There was no way for her to have laid a trap in the Temple. She'd had no time, she'd been locked in her room but a few hours ago, and prior to that she'd been governing her– well, his now– country. Dismounting his horse, he growled as he reached for the branch above his head and pulled himself onto the platform with ease.

Briefly, he considered the possibility, again, that she wasn't alone. If she had the Hero with her, the trip might take longer than expected. Just as quickly, however, he discarded he idea. The Hero also held a fragment of Triforce and he did not feel its presence, only hers.

A skullata had anchored itself on the little doorway. Ganondorf regarded it with a snarl of his upper lip before reaching for the offending creature, ripping it off, and tossing it over one shoulder. He was through the door before it landed somewhere in the meadow grass below.

* * *

If she was to judge by the massive brass lock lying on the floor, sculpted into the shape of a creature with horns: its gaping maw the keyhole, this was mostly likely the room that once housed- or, she prayed against it, in which still lurked- the monster that brought the curse upon Temple. The door was in proportion to the lock that lay on the ground and she wondered how she could expect to get inside. She knew what she sought lay on the other side of the door, but that knowledge on its own was of little use when she could not possibly lift it. She recognised the stone from which the door had been cut as a mineral resistant to magic and she did not think that, after galloping across the country and falling off a bridge (and falling off a bridge was falling off a bridge, no matter how short the fall) she had it in her to cast a spell as powerful as the door would require if it was going open. She sat down. Now what?

She had planned it out so carefully the night before, once she escaped her guards she would come here, Enter the Chamber of the sages and plan her next move from where Ganondorf could not possibly reach her. But if she could not open the door, how was she to proceed? She supposed that was not, really, much of a question. The door needed to open, and if magic was out that left only an attempt at the slightly-less-impossible. She pressed her hands against the painted stone and pushed upward. The door glided along its track without complaint. And she had been worried.

She stepped forward as the door fell shut behind her. It was even darker here than it had been in the main hall. She could, just barely, see the stairs before her and the raised platform at the stairs' end. The paintings on the walls had been replaced recently, and the dust that coated everything else had only begun to collect on the portraits of the young Sage of Forest. It took her no time at all to reach the center of the platform. She cleared her mind and awaited the familiar blue light.

Minutes passed. It did not come.

She focused upon the image of the blue light and light whining noise in her head, willing them to appear. This was not normal, as a Sage she should have no problem entering the sacred realm. Could it have been sealed off from her, somehow? Again she sank to the floor. Had he anticipated this? But even if he had, how could he prevent her from entering the Chamber of the Sages? Heavy footsteps outside the door. Calm and reason collapsed, she needed to get into the sacred realm. Pacing back and forth. Willing the blue light to appear. He had found her and would be here any moment. It did not show. The door opened again. Footsteps on stairs. She sank to the floor.

She was sprawled on the floor. He eyed the back of her head for a moment, her listless pose; her palms were flat to the floor, her torso slightly curved forward. The posture was the epitome of failure.

"What? Is that it? Make me chase you to the edges of the forest and then you give up? How disappointing."

He had arrived, just like that. Right at the moment she found she could not enter the Sacred Realm he had appeared; it could not be coincidence. Somehow he had foreseen her attempt and prevented it. She brought herself to stand again, and dusted off her clothes as best she could. "How?" she demanded.

"How did I find you? Catch you? Or track you down to this pathetically predictable location?" In idleness, he scratched on wrist as he stared down at her.

"How did you seal the Sacred Realm and stop me from entering" She replied immediately, irritation beginning to show through- he had already caught her, there was no need for him to pretend this had not been his doing.

His surprise was fleeting. "Mischief of your own making, Princess, you affianced yourself to evil voluntarily."

Affianced to evil. Of course, how could it not occur to her that she would not be allowed in the Chamber of the Sages after that? It was horribly unjust- she was motivated solely by protecting her Queendom- how could she be faulted for that? But she supposed it made no difference to the whatever force controlled admittance to the Sacred Realm and the Temple Light. She sighed, and for a moment she had honestly believed she would not have to share power- or her life- with the ruffian. She walked past him, and down the stairs back toward the Temple's exit.

"Slow pace for a second escape, isn't it?" he cocked a brow at her but she was walking ahead of him and didn't see.

"I cannot escape now" she replied, obviously less bemused by the situation than he was. "Why would I try?" The outer door of the Temple swung open under the force of her pushing it and the springy breeze of the day ruffled her golden hair. Below, a wild-eyed horse awaited its master, and behind her, her fiancé herded her back toward captivity.

"Such flippancy," he remarked. "Pity the poor kitchen girl had to die for your fleeting attempts at freedom. If your subjects are little more than game pieces, I rather like your manner of business."

"Game pieces?" She stopped walking and turned back to face him "My people and my rule are inseparable. I must, as ruler, preserve the people's prosperity. The Goddesses gave this charge to my family millennia ago, and we have followed it since. It is by divine appointment that we rule and the peace and stability of this land depends upon my ruling. And, in turn, rule depends upon the welfare of my subjects. I have no obligation to the any subject except as they are part of the people- and the people would be served by my continued reign, and even better served by my continued reign without you, considerations of the life of the individual subject come after."

He eyed her quietly, his expression flat. "Pity then, for what the Goddesses have given you, is me."

"Yes" she replied, acknowledging the truth "they did, and I shall find some way to endure it."

"Endure," his laughter was mocking, his expression fading into quiet. He pointed behind her. "Get down."

She jumped down from the platform and stood again in the Sacred Forest Meadow. Without instruction, she mounted his horse and waited for him to do the same. A quick jump down brought him ground-level with his horse and he eyed his beast and the woman atop it for a moment. She certainly looked comfortable enough; even his temperamental horse was calm. With quick, practiced ease, he pulled himself up behind her noting that she squirmed forward away, from him. He jerked on the reins, and the horse began the trek back to Hyrule Castle.


End file.
